The hospital was a maze of sterile corridors and muted sounds. I sat in the waiting room, my hands clenched together, my mind a storm of emotions. Guilt, sorrow, and a faint glimmer of hope was within me. I knew that whether I held hope nor not didn't matter. Nothing I did would matter now. But I was ready to believe for a second that miracles could happen.
My thoughts also stubbornly kept circling back to Evana- the girl who unknowingly saved my life when I was ready to let go of everything. I had left her behind without a word, granted I wasn't in the state to generate a single thought let alone utter some words, but the thought of her sitting alone, dealing with whatever she had seen by herself, made my heart ache.
"Benji?" A nurse's voice broke through my thoughts. She stood before me, her expression gentle but professional. "You can see your mother now." My mother, the one who brought me in this world, left earlier than I did. This thought alone made me suffocate. But, I controlled myself and followed her down the hallway. Each step felt, like a struggle, as if I was walking in water. When we reached the mortuary where they stored all the dead patients, the nurse gave me a small,sympathetic smile and opened the door. But I didn't enter. I hesitated. I wasn't sure I was ready to face what laid beyond this door. I wasn't ready to face the life that entering this door signified.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was quiet and cold. My mother was laying in one of the cabinets, her face pale but still beautiful. Her peaceful face hit me like a truck. I realized then that this was the first time I had seem my mother smile in years. A beautiful smile, a smile that announced to the world her decision was her own. The woman who had been my anchor, my world once, was no longer there. I approached the bed slowly, my heart pounding. I reached out and took her hand, cold and lifeless in mine. Tears welled up, and this time, I didn't try to stop them. They spilled over streaming down my face as I finally let myself feel the full weight of my grief.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I whispered. "I'm sorry your son couldn't save you. I'm sorry that your son is such a coward that he can't join you even in death."
I don't know how long I stood there, holding her hand and crying. Time seemed to dissolve. But eventually the tears subsided, leaving me hollow and drained. I gently laid her hand back, turned and walked out of the room. It was as if I was being pulled back in that room, bound by an invisible thread that was attached to signifying a special bond. With each step I took, that thread stretched further, until it could bear no more, then with a snap it broke. I walked out of the door. When I walked out, I felt change. Change within me. The thread that signified who I was had been broken. I didn't feel miserable. I felt free.
The hallway seemed brighter somehow, as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I knew the road ahead would be difficult, but for the first time in a long time, I felt a cold relaxation well within my chest. As I stepped out of the hospital, the cool night air washed over me, refreshing and invigorating. I took a deep breath and then, I saw her.
Evana was sitting on a bench outside her arms wrapped around herself staring at the ground. She looked up as I approached, her eyes red and swollen. She lowered her gaze to the ground, hesitantly lifted her hand, and handed me the crumpled note my mother had left behind. It carried the weight of unspoken words and memories. I paused for a moment then I took the note from her hand, folded the note carefully and tucked it into my pocket. Her hand hovered motionless above the note, suspended in a moment that felt frozen in time. I gently grasped her wrist, guiding her hand down to rest on the bench beside us. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, meeting my eyes with a mixture of surprise and clarity. For a moment, I just looked at her, unsure of what to say.
Finally, I broke the silence. "I'm sorry,". I apologized my voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm so sorry about everything you had to see. You were unwillingly pulled into something like this because of me. I'm sorry."
"It was scary, Benji," she said, her voice trembling. "I thought something bad was going to happen to you. It was as though you were about to lose yourself."
"I was." I admitted to her. "But you... you saved me. I don't know how to thank you."
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "You don't have to thank me. Just... promise me you 'll never do something like that again. Just tell me that you'll be strong and carry on."
I looked into her eyes, seeing the fear and a hint of affection reflected there, and I knew I couldn't let her down. "I promise," I said, my voice steady. "I'Il stay. For you, for my mom, and for myself." She nodded, and then, without, another word, she pulled me into a tight embrace. I held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.
As we stood there, holding each other under the night sky, I thought to myself, life wasn't all about darkness. It was also about the moments of light, the people who loved us, and the choices we made to keep going. And in that moment, I knew that I was ready to keep going-to live, to love, and to find my way back to the light.
The descent had been Iong and painful, but now, I was ready to rise out of it.